When I go into the foster kitten room, I am surrounded by the most adorable little monkeys, and my tongue – I believe I’ve mentioned – is constantly sore because I bite it so I won’t squeeze the stuffing out of the kittens. Whether it’s Jake and Eddie Dean climbing into my lap and flopping over, or Billy Bumbler batting at my face when I pick him up, or Susannah fighting wildly on the other side of the room, I am bathed in the glow of the cute. I end up spending at least 45 minutes in there every time I go in, and when I walk out, I’m as relaxed as if I’d had a massage. This bonding-with-the-kittens thing could totally turn into a business. People would pay $20 for half an hour of kitten bonding, wouldn’t they?
The three orange kittens (Callahan, Susannah, Billy Bumbler) will be going to the pet store today (but there’ll be pictures of them for the rest of the week, because I have so many in the queue on my memory stick) and the three brown tabbies will be going on Friday. Think happy adoption thoughts, y’all!
I’ve developed a little crush on Billy Bumbler, because y’all KNOW how I love the orange kittens, and also, when I pick him up and look at him, he does this little swiping-at-my-face thing like “I are a badass! Le grrrr!”, and it’s severely cute. Also, he’s a porky little thing, and who doesn’t love a porky little kitten?
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“Please, can we have the snuggles now?”
“NO.”
“So…no snuggles? At all? Not a little bitty snuggle?”
“NO.”
“No snuggles… ever? Or just not right now? Because if I have to be patient for the snuggles, I can be. I’m a patient little girl, and if I know that there will eventually be snuggles, I can chill out and back off. You just say the word, boyfriend.”
“Oh lord, how much more must a poor kitteh suffer? How much longer, lord?”
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Previously
2006: Maddy loves the belly rubs.
2005: No entry.